


Five Things Sakura Will Never Tell Naruto

by sowell



Category: Naruto
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 01:31:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sowell/pseuds/sowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kunoichi know how to keep their secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Things Sakura Will Never Tell Naruto

1.

  
She slept with Sasuke once.  
  
Well, not that, exactly.  
  
There had been plenty of wine at Naruto’s inauguration, and lights and music and laughter besides. Sasuke had been back in the village for almost a year by then, and they were both drunk – drunk off of Naruto’s happiness and how his smile seemed extra bright and extra proud and burning with even more life than usual. He was perfect that night, and Sakura remembers how he’d looked against the summer sky, strong and tall in the white robes, flushed with the colors of the paper lanterns hung all around him.  
  
As long as Sakura had known Naruto, she’d known two things about him: 1) He wanted her and Sasuke by his side, always, and 2) He wanted to be Hokage.  
  
The second part of his dream had begun that night, and Sakura wasn’t sure her heart had ever been so full. Sasuke had been calling him increasingly foul names all night in an increasingly softer tone of voice, and Sakura doubted anyone aside from her and Naruto could have deciphered the meaning behind that.  
  
“Your hat’s crooked, moron.”  _I’m proud of you._  
  
“No one will hire Konoha ever again if you walk around with that stupid smile on.”  _I’m happy to be home._  
  
She stood over him at one point, looking down at him through foggy eyes. She’d been talking to Ino, but Ino had left to torment Shikamaru and now there was nothing to do but watch Sasuke watch Naruto. Naruto was halfway across the party, attempting to out-yell Lee as he went through the motions of some doubtless-exaggerated combat story.  
  
Sasuke had a tiny smile on his face as he observed, and she remembers thinking how loud and smooth and spinning and lovely everything was in that moment. He was leaning back against the table, slouched and graceful and beautiful as always, and she almost couldn’t stop herself from dropping her fingers into his hair.  
  
His face turned up to her, and he was all cool angles where Naruto was happy curves, but he was no less perfect. He surprised her by cupping her hip, and she almost tripped over her own feet when his arm slid around her waist.  
  
“Sasuke-kun?” she said uncertainly, because Sasuke barely made eye contact without being prompted, let alone full-body touches.  
  
He was playing with one of her hands, running his fingers over and over the smooth back and the callused palms. She’d left her gloves off, and she knew he could feel every ridge of scar tissue that the years had left on her. It made her shiver.  
  
“I almost missed this,” he murmured, and only the slight slur to his voice told her how very drunk he was. “I almost…”  
  
She pulled him out of the crowd to find a quiet spot between buildings, and when she touched his shoulder to see if he was all right, he leaned forward and kissed her. She’d been expecting it, and she returned it, opened her mouth and let his tongue stroke hers.  
  
She’d moved on from Sasuke Uchiha a long time ago, but in that moment she could remember why she’d wanted him in the first place, why she’d been so desperately in love when she was a girl.  
  
Because Sasuke was black fire beneath the ice – hot and demanding and hungry and broken all at once. She burned every place he touched her, and she hurt in the places he didn’t. She could understand why he kept himself under such tight control, if this was what was underneath. A person could be consumed alive, walking around feeling like that all the time.  
  
She didn’t sleep with Sasuke Uchiha; she had sex with him in an alley, frenzied and quick, not twenty feet from Naruto’s celebration. He was hot and hard inside of her, and he was both more and less than every fantasy she’d had over the years. More, because he pulled noises out of her that no one –  _no one_  – had ever managed. He was an Uchiha first and foremost, and he was good at whatever he chose to do. His hands fit her hips like a dream, sliding across her skin in an easy dance, thumbing her nipples through her shirt with just the right amount of pressure. He lifted her up without a hint of effort, dragged her panties down without hesitation, thrust inside her so the friction made her shudder sweetly every time.  
  
Less, because it wasn’t about her at all. It wasn’t about either of them, really. It was about Naruto, Naruto, Naruto. Sasuke wanted her because she was part of  _them_ , part of the team that Naruto had drawn to himself and sealed in years of trust and struggle and friendship. Golden bonds, through, and through, and always Naruto at the center.  
  
She didn’t know if she’d still love Sasuke if Naruto hadn’t been there the whole time, making her believe there was something to be salvaged. And she didn’t know if Sasuke would love her at all, if he hadn’t been forcibly pulled in by Naruto, contaminated by his endless reserves of friendship and loyalty. Naruto had built the rock they were standing on now; nothing Sakura or Sasuke did would ever crumble it.  
  
She made a noise when she came, and Sasuke, ever logical, muffled her with a hand so she wouldn’t attract attention. He followed her just moments later, pumping into her until she felt his seed filling her, searing hot.  
  
He stayed there for a moment, panting, his forehead pressed against the wall. Sakura let him support her like a rag doll, relaxed and sated in the moment. She could feel the light coating of sweat all over her, and she knew, as soon as she walked back in, that every shinobi in the room would be able to smell the sex on them.  
  
She didn’t care. Because it didn’t make her start dreaming of babies and picket fences and didn’t make her want promises from Sasuke and didn’t make her ashamed. It didn’t make her anything but happy, that Naruto was happy and Sasuke was happy and they were all together. The only way it could have been better was if Naruto had been part of it. Next time, she resolved, he would be.  
  
Sasuke let her slide down the wall slowly, and Sakura figured he’d walk away, or maybe apologize, or do something else infuriating. She was used to that. But he leaned down and kissed her instead, tipping her face up so gently she wanted to cry.  
  
They kissed for long minutes, soft and natural and more about affection than sex. And then she took his hand and pulled him back into the party.  
  
The clean air had sobered her a little, but Naruto had slid even further into inebriation. The headdress really was crooked, tipped sideways on his tousled hair, and his eyes were half-slits of bright blue, heavy with alcohol.  
  
He was slumped in the makeshift throne that the other boys from their Academy class had constructed (which Kiba had thoughtfully supplied with a beer funnel so that Naruto didn’t even have to move to get his alcohol), boneless as he watched his friends. The party had thinned out some. It had only been a select number of high-ranking jounin to start with, and it was well-past midnight. None of them – Naruto included – would have the luxury of sleeping late the next day. Shinobi knew how to take their celebrations when they could; there was no such thing as a vacation when you were a ninja, and you never knew which party would be your last.  
  
Naruto straightened when he saw them coming, and his eyes lit up. “Hey,” he said. He tried to rise, only to get tangled in his robes. He cursed as he thumped back into his seat.  
  
“You’re an idiot,” Sasuke said mildly.  
  
“Man, this is so awesome,” Naruto sighed drunkenly. “I love being Hokage.”  
  
Sakura rolled her eyes. “All you’ve done so far is get drunk. Of course you love it.”  
  
“Hey, hey! Tsunade-baa-chan did it all the time. I can too.”  
  
“Great,” Sasuke said. “Out of all her examples, you retain that one.”  
  
She met Sasuke’s gaze, and the warning was written all over his dark eyes. If Sakura had had any plans to confess, that look would have stopped her.  
  
She seated herself on the arm of the chair, thankful he was drunk. His senses would be dulled enough not to guess what they’d been doing.  
  
He tipped his head back, looking up at the sky, and Sakura wondered what he was thinking about – Jiraiya, or maybe how far he’d come, or maybe envisioning all the gloriously heroic things he’d do for Konoha.  
  
“I’m really happy,” he said, and Sakura smiled.  
  
She felt his arm around her waist, and then he was pulling her into his lap with a graceless thump, face buried in her neck.  
  
“Naruto!” she exclaimed, struggling. He laughed, and she was considering slapping him when he went deathly still against her. She felt him sniffing, nose drifting across her skin, and she suddenly remembered that he was a fox, and foxes don’t lose their sense of smell, to alcohol or anything else.  
  
Sasuke had gone still as well, and Sakura could feel the tension cutting through the joyful atmosphere.  
  
Naruto raised his head, and his eyes were wet. He looked at Sasuke, and then looked back at her. Sasuke took a step toward him, face tight, shoulders bunched, and then Naruto lashed out.  
  
He didn’t attack, though. He caught Sasuke’s wrist and pulled him down too, jerked him into his lap so that Sasuke and Sakura were nothing but an untidy pile of limbs in front of him.  
  
“What the – ” Sasuke scowled, trying to stand up. He looked awkward tumbled onto Naruto’s lap, his big shoulders lurching away. “What are you doing, moron?”  
  
Naruto hooked an elbow around each of their necks, and Sakura figured they must look awfully strange to whoever might be watching, but she was too busy remembering to breathe to care.  
  
Naruto pressed a kiss against her temple, and did the same to Sasuke. Sasuke stopped struggling.  
  
“I’m really happy,” he repeated, low and whispered against her skin, and Sakura closed her eyes as she curled up against him.  
  


2.

  
She made her first kill while he was on his training mission with Jiraiya.  
  
She’d been sent out with Hinata’s team for medical support while Hinata was still completing her training with Shizune. Of all the ninja she’d graduated with, she knew Kiba and Shino the least, which was why she must have misinterpreted Shino’s signal.  
  
Instead of stepping over the trap, she stepped directly on it.  
  
Shino pushed her out of the way and got three kunai in his back for his troubles. While she was busy healing him, she saw the enemy kunoichi creeping up on Kiba. Akamaru was a hundred feet away, tangling with his own opponent, and Kurenai was busy trying to take down their leader.  
  
Sakura picked up the nearest shuriken and threw it. It hit the girl directly in her jugular, and Kiba jumped when the blood sprayed all over his face. By the time the girl hit the ground, Sakura’s attention had turned back to Shino.  
  
It wasn’t until it was all over that she realized the girl was still alive. Her eyes were glazed and her lips were blue with blood loss, but her chest was rising and falling. She was beyond anyone’s ability to save, except maybe Tsunade’s, and Sakura had a long way to go before she’d be anywhere near Tsunade’s level.  
  
Kurenai touched her shoulder gently. “It’s a mercy kill,” she said quietly, and then moved on. Sakura leaned down and finished the job.  
  
Ino found her that night, curled up in Naruto’s bed. She’d gone to Sasuke’s first, but there were Uchiha ghosts embedded in the soil itself. At Naruto’s apartment there was no one but Naruto, his plain walls and musky scent still lingering despite his absence.  
  
“Go away,” she said.  
  
“Forehead,” Ino sighed. “You are really fucked up.”  
  
“Shut up,” Sakura said. “You still have a team. Go bother them.”  
  
Ino crouched down. “We’re shinobi,” she said. “It was bound to happen.”  
  
“It hasn’t happened to you,” Sakura said, and Ino bristled.  
  
“It will,” she retorted. “And I’m kind of pissed you did it first, so watch it.”  
  
Sakura turned her face into the pillow. “Go away.”  
  
She felt the bed sink, and her shoulders relaxed, because for a moment she thought Ino was actually going to walk out.  
  
“Your hair looks worse than normal,” Ino said, touching it. “Sasuke-kun’s going to run screaming in the other direction next time you see him if you keep this up.”  
  
She felt Ino’s fingers, light and gentle between the strands, and to her mortification, tears started to leak from her eyes.  
  
“It’s okay,” Ino said. “It’s – I cried last week and I didn’t even kill anyone, so…it’s not great or anything, but it’s okay. Everyone has trouble with their first one. That’s what Asuma said when it happened to Shikamaru a while back.”  
  
Sakura curled in on herself, trying to stop her breath from hitching in her chest.  
  
Ino stayed for hours, stroking her hair and sitting silently by her. Sakura stayed for even longer, head on Naruto’s pillow as the sun came up the next morning.  
  
When she finally trailed through the doorway to her parents’ house, bleary-eyed and dragging, her mother was so angry at her prolonged absence that she tried to ground Sakura. Sakura attempted to explain that the Hokage didn’t think “I’m grounded” was a good excuse for missing her hospital shift, but her mother was insistent.  
  
Sakura moved into her own apartment the next week.  
  
Later, when she broke the neck of a Mist spy in front of Naruto and Sai, she let Naruto think it was her first kill. It was really her third. Kakashi knew she was lying of course, but he didn’t lift his head from his book to correct her.  
  
Naruto wouldn’t leave her alone for the next two days. She felt him drifting to her side every so often, studying her through worried eyes. It had hurt that he hadn’t been there for her real first time, but she had the feeling the knowledge would hurt him even worse, so she let him believe.  
  
It was after she said, “I’m fine, idiot, stop staring at me,” for the fifth time, that he blinked at her in amazement.  
  
“Sakura-chan is so strong,” he said in wonder, and then smiled.  
  
She wishes he could have been right.  
  


3.

  
She cried when he married Hinata.  
  
She hugged him first, of course, and then his bride. She gave a perfect bow to each and every one of Hinata’s endless relatives, including Neji, who stood in as best man. Naruto had asked Sasuke first, and gotten such a dismissive answer that Sakura ended up healing bruises and cuts off of both of them.  
  
Luckily, they’d made up before they killed each other, but Sasuke had volunteered for a month-long mission that placed him somewhere in Water Country on the day of the wedding. As the chances for success almost tripled with the inclusion of the Sharingan, Naruto had no real choice but to send him. Sakura saw the way his eyes returned to the doorway throughout the ceremony, though, as if he expected Sasuke to walk in any moment.  
  
Hinata was beautiful, sweet and lovely in her dress with her hair hanging in a sleek curtain down her back. She’d seen Naruto playing with it at random intervals, and she couldn’t stop herself from touching her own cropped hair self-consciously.  
  
Hinata had asked her to be a bridesmaid along with the other kunoichi from their class, and she couldn’t say no when the girl added, “I-it would mean a lot. To me and…and to Naruto-kun.”  
  
So she smiled and laughed and congratulated, and the first moment she got she went to the ladies room and cried – big, messy, gasping tears that would have been louder if she hadn’t been trapped in public restroom hell.  
  
She didn’t even know  _why_ she was crying, because god knew she didn’t want to marry Naruto  _herself_ , and she’d never wished Hinata anything but happiness. The poor girl deserved it, growing up in a clan like the Hyuugas.  
  
But Naruto had been hers as long as she remembered, and now he was someone else’s. It shouldn’t have hurt, except for the fact that she had no one to move on to in turn. They were still a team – her and Naruto and Sasuke – but Naruto had someone else to protect now, and she knew it would never be quite the same again. There would be children in Naruto’s future –  _babies_ that he’d give Hinata – and even though she knew she should be glad about that, she just couldn’t stop the tears from coming.  
  
She had to go back to the reception eventually, of course. People would notice if one of the bridesmaids disappeared. But she couldn’t walk out with her makeup smeared and her face blotchy. Naruto would freak out and his voice would get loud and he’d ruin the wedding video, and even if Hinata didn’t hate her for the rest of her life for that, Sakura knew she’d hate herself.  
  
She climbed out the window instead and went to her apartment. The bridesmaid dresses were a refined powder blue that made Ino look like a goddess and made Sakura look like a stick of cotton candy, only half as appealing.   
  
She raided her closet for something red instead. Dark red. The dress she found was a little scandalous – too daring for a wedding, really – but it made her eyes glow and added about three inches to her legs, and that was what she needed. She re-applied her makeup on the way and sauntered back into the party like nothing had happened.  
  
“Spilled punch,” she said carelessly, when Ino raised an eyebrow at her. “Couldn’t get it out.”  
  
Naruto did a double take when he saw her, and it made her smile.  
  
When Kakashi approached her a few minutes later and asked her very gravely if she’d like to dance, she accepted.  
  


4.

  
She had a wet dream once that involved her feeding him ramen while naked.  
  
She swiped his ramen out from under his nose at lunch that day and dumped it in the trash while he squawked in protest. She never told him why.  
  


5.

  
She figured him out long ago.  
  
Naruto is as open as a book, utterly transparent for anyone who cares to look. People look now, more than they used to, but aside from Iruka, Kakashi, and maybe Sasuke, no one sees what she sees. The younger generation sees their Hokage – a strong ninja, a leader, and someone who protects them. The older generation will never see anything but the demon fox.  
  
His comrades, the ones who have fought with him – they all have their own stories. They all remember the moment they recognized his strength, the moment he turned from a screw-up to a hero in their eyes.  
  
Sakura doesn’t have a moment like that. He’s Naruto, and he always has been. He’s still a screw-up. He spills tea all over important mission reports, he calls heads of state by rude names, and he’s still willing to issue a challenge to anyone who looks sideways at him or his friends.  
  
And he’s Naruto. He’s as fierce and reckless and brave as he was the day she saw him rush the Demon of the Hidden Mist, just to reclaim his stupid, useless forehead protector.  
  
What she does remember, is her first chuunin exam. Naruto was on the ground, down from Kiba’s blow, and she heard the whispers around her, the overwhelming conviction that the match was already finished.  
  
But she’d looked back at Kakashi, and Kakashi had been smiling. He knew –  _they_ knew – that Naruto would never be finished. Not until he’d done what he said he was going to do.  
  
She remembers him walking into the Konoha hospital with the legendary Tsunade in tow, because he promised he’d bring her. She remembers Sasuke’s tight words, telling her how hard Naruto had fought Gaara to save her. She remembers seeing him wrapped head to toe in bandages, half-dead from trying to keep his promise to bring Sasuke home.  
  
She’s called for him a million times, with her voice and in her mind, and he’s always come.  
  
She berates him, and she teases him, and she hits him, and she never tells him the truth. She never tells him she believes in him.  
  
And she never will.  
  
Because every time he looks at her, squeezes her hand, faces down one of her enemies, she can see clear as day: he already knows.


End file.
